


Dean Winchester, Good Samaritan

by DracoPendragon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Eventual Relationships, Homeless Castiel, M/M, Star Wars References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-01-15 01:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1285636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoPendragon/pseuds/DracoPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walking home one day in the rain, Dean stops for cover. There, he meets a homeless Castiel, and decides to help the other man out. Cas, being pretty desperate, takes him up, albeit reluctantly.</p><p>And at that moment, something wonderful is created.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean could hear the low rumble of thunder on the horizon. He looked up at the sky to see grey clouds gathering above him. He quickened his pace and carried on walking home from work. He hadn’t got a quarter of a mile when the rain started falling in heavy sheets. Everyone was running for cover, and Dean was no exception. He held his briefcase over his head and ducked into the nearest alleyway, finding shelter underneath the awning of the back entryway to a convenience store. He was still several blocks away from his house, and the rain was falling hard and fast with no visible sign of stopping anytime soon. _Damn, why didn’t I take the car this morning?_ he thought.

He’d been standing for about five minutes, wet and shivering in the cold, fall downpour, when he saw a shape move in the shadow at the end of the alley where the rain was still pounding down mercilessly.

‘Hello?’ he shouted. The shape moved further away from him. He ran his options over in his mind before dropping his briefcase on the ground and running over to the dark mass. He was pelted with wind and rain from all sides as he ran up to the shape and pulled it over to the sheltered spot he’d been under. The thing struggled in his grip and he wrestled with it until he had it wedged between him and the side of the building.

Now that they were out of the rain, he could see that it was a man he was pinning against the wall. ‘Dude, I'm just trying to help!’ he shouted over the howl of the wind. The figure stopped struggling against him and fell limply onto the floor. Dean watched it shiver pathetically where it lay, curled up at his feet.

Then, as quickly as it came, the rain stopped. Dean glanced up at the cloudy sky and knew that if they didn’t hurry somewhere better covered, they would end up catching their deaths. He bent down to face the guy. ‘Come on; the rain’s going to start again soon, we have to go home. Where do you live?’

The man looked up at him. His blue eyes were bright against his dirty clothes. ‘I have no home,’ he said bluntly.

Dean paused. He supposed he should have expected it, what with the guy huddling in the corner of the alleyway instead of going anywhere more sheltered. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked.

‘Castiel,’ came the reply. Castiel was still shuddering and eyeing him warily, as though he was dangerous.

‘Well, Castiel, I'm Dean. Come on, we have to go before the real storm begins.’ Dean grabbed his briefcase and rose up into a standing position before turning and walking out of the alleyway. When he realised that the other man wasn't following him, he turned back. ‘You coming, Cas?’

Castiel, still shivering, was sat on the edge of the set of stairs where he and Dean had waited for the weather to clear. ‘It’s Castiel,’ he replied, not looking up.

Dean glanced at the sky again. The clouds were darker than before, and he could hear the roar of oncoming thunder in the distance. ‘Look, man, there’s a storm coming. We gotta get out of here before it hits us.’

‘Dean, I have no-’

‘I know, I know. You're homeless. Which is why I'm taking you somewhere where you'll be looked after.’

‘I don’t want charity,’ Castiel growled.

‘It’s not charity. It’s looking after a good person.’

‘I am not a good person.’

Dean moved forward. ‘Castiel, please. Come on, we don’t want you to get caught in a storm and freeze to death.’

Castiel looked up; not at Dean but at the sky. His face darkened, matching the sky above him, and he stood up. He joined Dean and together they walked out onto the street.

Dean pointed them in the way of a homeless shelter, but Castiel shook his head. ‘Dean, I cannot go there. I… I was thrown out. That’s why I was on the streets.’

‘Well then where else will you go?’ asked Dean.

‘I don’t know,’ the man next to him shrugged. ‘I do not have anywhere to stay other than the streets.’ As he said this, the rain began to fall again, though not as heavily as before, and Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand before running, Castiel following behind him, all the way home in the relentless rain. 

* * *

Dean and Castiel stood on the porch outside Dean’s door, drenched through and shivering with cold. The rain had not stopped, and was still beating down with a sizeable force, but they were under shelter at least. As his numb hands fumbled with the key, Dean kept on glancing over at the man next to him, who was standing shock still as though he wanted to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

Finally, he managed to turn the key in the lock and open the door to his bungalow. He stepped past the threshold and flicked on the hallway light. Turning round, he realised that Castiel was still standing on the porch. ‘You coming in?’ he asked.

‘Dean, I do not wish to intrude on you or your family, I-’

‘Look, if it’s family you’re worried about, don’t be – I live alone.’ Dean figured telling the truth was the best way to get Castiel to trust him.

‘I'm not a charity case.’

‘I never said you were. Now get in before I drag you out of the rain,’ growled Dean impatiently. Castiel did not move. ‘What, are you like a vampire or something? Do I gotta invite you in before you can step into my house?’

‘No, it’s just… I’m confused.’

‘Look, I'll explain once we’re inside. Please, Cas, come on!’

‘It’s Castiel.’

‘Fine. Castiel. Please just come inside.’

Sighing, Castiel complied, shooting Dean strange looks as he did so. He shut the door behind him and stood in one place looking uncomfortable as Dean took off his jacket and adjusted to the inside warmth.

‘How long have you been on the streets?’ he asked.

‘A week or two.’

Dean winced. In the last couple of weeks, the weather had been indecisive, switching between torrential rain and bright sunshine constantly. ‘You must be cold. And hungry,’ he said as he took off his shoes. A glance over at the other’s footwear made him slightly saddened, the sight of a visibly thin pair of worn slippers unable to provide even their most basic function – protecting feet – on Castiel.

‘Starved,’ Castiel admitted, still static.

‘Come on. Take your coat off, and give it to me. I'll put it in the washing machine, and then I can wash it with the rest of your clothes tonight,’ he said as he took off his suit jacket and socks so he was just in his shirt and trousers.

‘But what will I wear while they wash?’ asked Castiel, head tilted to the side and squinting at Dean.

‘You can wear some of my old clothes.’ Dean held out his hand for the trench coat, and Castiel begrudgingly gave the article of clothing over. Dean smiled his winning smile.

‘Thanks, man. Now, we need to get you washed, clothed and fed,’ he said, looking the other man up and down in detail for the first time. He was shorter than Dean, with dark, relatively short, wet hair plastered to his face. His eyes were really blue, and he had a beard that looked like it’d been developing for at least a month. His clothes hung off him like the ones Halloween skeletons had, and they were holey as well as several sizes too big for him. Dean figured that he had got them from the homeless shelter he wouldn’t return to.

‘Dean, I still do not understand; why are you doing this for me?’ Castiel blurted.

‘I'll tell you later,’ Dean replied, heading to his left into the living room. ‘Come in.’ He looked back to make sure Castiel was following him before moving further into his house. ‘This is the living room,’ he said awkwardly, feeling like an estate agent. ‘What do you want to do first? Eat, or shower and get clean clothes?’

Castiel considered for a minute. ‘I think I'll shower first, if that suits you.’

‘Okay then,’ said Dean, guiding him to the bathroom. Walking up from where they stood facing the kitchen, Dean made sure Castiel followed him left and then took a right from there.

‘Shower’s through here,’ he said as he opened the door and stepped inside the room. ‘You just, er, adjust the taps to the right temperature for you, blue one’s cold water, red one’s hot water, obviously. I’d start with a cooler temperature and work it up bit by bit so you don’t get that weird burning feeling.’ He glanced at the towel rack on the wall that was behind the door. ‘Let me get you a towel and some fresh clothes and you can just leave yours on a heap on the toilet lid.’

He turned to leave, but Castiel grabbed his arm and he felt it begin to tremble slightly. They were both still wet and cold, but Dean had stopped shivering whereas Castiel hadn’t. ‘Dean, I must know. Why?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why are you doing all this?’

‘Is it a crime to help someone?’ retaliated Dean.

‘No, but most people would not invite complete strangers to their house and offer them food and clean clothing.’

‘I'm not most people, Castiel. Stick around a little longer and you'll find that out for yourself.’ Dean shook his arm out of Castiel’s grip and stared into those blue eyes until they looked down at the floor. ‘I like helping people. It makes me feel good about myself.’

Castiel looked up at him, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem. Now go and get washed up, and I'll cook us up some food. I won't disturb you, and I'll leave your towel and clean clothes just outside the door.’ He shut the door behind him and walked slowly to his room, wondering just what the hell he'd got himself into.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I couldn't leave it alone...
> 
> This'll be the last update until my exams are over. They start in about 6 weeks and last for 6 weeks, so I'll see you all in 12 weeks!

Dean went and dug through his closet, looking for some clothes he could lend the man who was currently using his bathroom. Eventually, after sifting through several band T-shirts and worn jeans, he pulled out a pair of pyjama bottoms, a Led Zeppelin tee, some socks that didn’t have holes in the bottom and a pair of boxers he had never actually got round to wearing.

He left them, along with a towel he got from the linen closet opposite the bathroom, in a neat pile in front of the door before returning to his room and getting changed from his work clothes into some jogging bottoms and the rumpled ACDC shirt he found beneath his pillow.

Then he went to the kitchen and set about making some soup for him and his guest. He figured, since Castiel had been living rough, not to give him too much rich stuff or he'd just sick it up. Which was something he was sure neither of them wanted.

Soup didn’t take too long to make; it was from one of those wholesale soup packets, due to the fact that he hadn’t been anticipating any visitors and so didn’t have much food in. Dean had just finished setting out the bowls and spoons on the dining room table when Castiel walked into the room. Dean was oblivious to his company, however, until he whirled around and found himself almost chest-to-chest with the other man.

‘Dude,’ he called out, having been shocked at the sudden proximity. ‘Sneak up on me like that again, and I’m gonna have to put a bell on you.’

‘My apologies,’ replied Castiel gravely, moving back to give Dean space. Dean gave him a once over, trying to ignore the strange twinge of satisfaction he felt upon seeing the other man in his clothes.

‘It’s fine,’ he insisted. ‘You just shocked me a little, is all.’ He turned and pointed to the kitchen, where he had been headed to take the stock pot from off the heat. ‘I made soup. I hope you don’t mind. It must be tiring, getting it all the time at the shelter, but I thought I shouldn’t give you anything too rich.’

‘I understand your logic, Dean. Soup is fine,’ Castiel assured him. ‘I must thank you again for doing this for me.’

‘It’s nothing, man,’ reiterated the Winchester. ‘I’m not one for chick flick moments, but I’ll always help someone in need.’

‘That is highly admirable of you.’

They stood in silence for a while, Dean focusing largely on the way that his shirt hung from the other man’s body like drapes. Then he remembered that he still hadn’t got the soup, and moved over to the kitchen so he could turn the heat off. He grabbed a pan stand from one of the drawers and set it down on the table between the two bowls before going to grab the pot and placing it on the surface of the stand.

‘Sit down,’ he said, gesturing at the chair closest to him before going to the fridge and opening it so he could look through it and study the contents. ‘What do you want to drink?’ he called out.

‘Water will suffice,’ came the reply.

‘Sure thing. Help yourself to food,’ Dean added as he pulled out the water purifier and shut the fridge before digging two cups from the cabinet where he kept them. Those he placed upon the table so that he could pour water from the purifier into both of them.

He noted that although Castiel’s bowl contained a sizeable portion of soup, the spoon had not left its place on the side of the place mat. Upon enquiring about it, the reply he gained was: ‘I thought it would be polite to wait for you.’

Dean was struck dumb for a second; this man who he had invited in as an act of generosity, someone who probably hadn’t eaten for at least a few days, was prolonging his meal a short while longer so he could eat it with Dean. The thought made him smile shyly, and his cheeks were flushed as he sat down.

‘You can, er, you can eat now,’ he said clumsily as he picked up his spoon and shovelled up a serving of the soup he had made. He carefully blew at the serving before placing it in his mouth, letting the taste of chicken and artificial flavourings flood his mouth.

After having finished his mouthful, he looked up as Castiel, who was just finishing his own spoonful of food. Dean watched as the other man swallowed, eyes fixated upon the fine skin of his neck before coughing uncomfortably. ‘It’s from a soup packet, so sorry if it doesn’t taste too good. I wasn’t anticipating visitors.’

‘It is nice, Dean,’ said the smaller of the two in his gravelly voice as he made eye contact with his host. ‘Better than the tomato one at the shelter, anyway.’

Dean nodded in acknowledgement of the response and looked back down at his meal, feeling uncomfortable with the way the blue eyes of the man opposite were staring at him intently, unblinking as they studied him.

They continued eating in silence for a while, until Dean decided to get some bread and butter for the table. He took a slice and buttered it before dipping it in his half-finished bowl of soup and taking a bite. He watched as Castiel mimicked his actions, only using a tiny sliver of butter to cover his bread.

‘You can use more than that, you know,’ Dean said after he had finished his mouthful.

‘I don’t want to use up your supplies-’ Castiel started to say, but was cut off.

‘Cas, it’s only butter. Use as much as you want.’

He was studied again by the other man before being sighed at. ‘Thank you for your offer, Dean. But I think this shall be enough for me. I would hate to have too much and end up being ill for my efforts.’

‘If you’re sure.’

‘I am.’

‘Alright then.’

They ate the rest of their meal in a not uncomfortable silence, and when they were both finished, Dean put his cup in his bowl next to the spoon and moved to collect Castiel’s too, but was stopped short when the other set of dining utensils was swept up gently into long, pale, spindly fingers. ‘I can take my own, Dean.’

Dean didn’t argue with Castiel, and instead lead his companion forward and casually instructed him to put the dishes in the sink. Dean then ran some hot water to soak the dishes in, and pulled Castiel to the living room.

‘Sit down,’ he offered again, gesturing to the couch. He waited until the small figure was perched on the edge of the sofa tensely before sitting down himself and turning so they were facing each other.

‘Tell me about yourself.’

‘What?’

‘Tell me what you like, what you don’t like, your favourite colour, how old you are, your favourite time of the year, whatever. Just tell me something about you.’

Castiel was visibly uneasy at opening up, and Dean wasn’t going to push him if he didn’t want to disclose any information about himself. There was a long moment of hesitation before: ‘My name is Castiel Novak. I’m 29 years old, and I’ve been homeless for the past two years. My favourite colour is green, and my favourite time of the year is spring, when it starts to get warm and new life begins to thrive. I like cooking, as well as animals and art. However, I do not like being viewed as a charity case because of my predicament.’

Dean took in all the information he had been given and compiled a short few factoids about himself he could share. ‘That’s all very interesting. And don’t worry: I don’t see you as a charity case.’ He paused.

‘What about you?’

‘Well, you know my name’s Dean Winchester. I’m 30 years old, and currently live alone. My brother Sam lives in Stanford, where he has a law firm. I, however, am a fancy-shmancy corporate businessman for one of the local companies in town. My favourite colour is blue, like my Impala, and my favourite song is a draw between _Ramble On_ and _Travelling Riverside Blues_ , both of which are by Led Zeppelin.’

‘They are the band on this shirt, correct?’ asked Castiel as he looked down at the mentioned item of clothing.

‘Damn straight,’ grinned Dean.

‘Who are they?’

‘Did you just ask me who Zeppelin are?’

‘Yes?’ replied Castiel uncertainly, looking highly confused.

‘Only _the_ greatest rock band in existence, that’s who.’ He looked at the clock on the wall, which told him it was almost 7pm. ‘So I still have a couple hours before I usually go to bed, and I think I should use those to teach you more about some classic tunes.’

‘That sounds good,’ replied Castiel.

‘Alrighty then,’ Dean grinned once more before bouncing joyfully over to his record player, which was located on a cabinet set resting beside his bookcase, and waving for the other man to come and join him. He dug through and selected his _Mothership_ vinyl, which he placed in the player and set the record spinning.

‘So this is _Mothership_ , their best of album that came out in 2007. I wouldn’t agree with all of the choices on here, but some of them are pretty damn good.’

‘Fascinating,’ said Castiel from behind him in a slightly awe-struck tone.

‘I know right,’ smiled Dean.

* * *

Dean was so engrossed in educating his newfound companion on Zeppelin that he didn’t even notice that it was past 9pm until his sideways glance at the clock informed him that it was 10:12.

‘Crap,’ he hissed before turning to Castiel abruptly. ‘I should really get some sleep. Busy day tomorrow.’

‘I understand.’ Castiel looked around the room. ‘Where shall I sleep?’

Dean just grinned and took hold of Cas’ hand before pulling the shorter man along with him and directing him to the guest bedroom Dean had for when Sam visited. ‘You can sleep in here.’

‘Are you sure?’ Cas asked, once more in awe.

‘Sure thing. There’s a toilet in here too, that door there. Make yourself at home.’

‘It’s nothing, Cas.’ Dean stood by the door, watching as Castiel walked around the room and looked around before turning to face his host.

‘Thank you for everything.’

‘It’s fine,’ Dean smiled gently before turning and heading for his own bedroom. He slipped out of the jogging bottoms and crawled under the covers before falling asleep, hoping that Cas would still be there when he woke up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied.
> 
> I came up with the idea for this chapter as soon as I'd written the other one, and I couldn't stop myself.  
> The reason it's so late in that respect is because my laptop charger broke and I couldn't use my laptop until today, so here you go.
> 
> This will have to be the last update until after my exams however, which end on the 20th June, so I'll see you sometime after that

The first thing Dean did when he regained consciousness the next morning was glance sideways at his clock, which told him it was 6:30am, an hour before he needed to be at work. The next thing he did was inhale deeply through his nose, because there was the scent of cooking in the air, which confused him. Following his nose, he withdrew from the covers and got out of bed, walking into the kitchen in his still half-asleep state.

He stopped when he reached the kitchen counter and could look across it to the other side of the space where Castiel was standing. He was holding the handle of a pan from which the ambrosial smell seemed to be emanating. He watched the other man work for a while, silently admiring the grace with which the food was prepared. Then Castiel put the food onto plates and moved to put them on the table.

‘Good morning Dean,’ he said, back still turned.

‘Morning,’ Dean smiled sheepishly as he walked towards the table. He stopped halfway there when he realised he hadn’t put on his trousers when he got out of bed, and became highly conscious of how little he was wearing.

Castiel turned around, and blinked at the sight of Dean in his boxer briefs and T-shirt standing static in the space between the table and the counter.

‘Errr…’ Dean made the sound purely out of awkwardness, and hurried frantically for something to say. ‘I can go put on some trousers if you want, I just took them off because it was real warm during the night.’

‘It’s fine, Dean. Whatever makes you comfortable,’ Cas replied. ‘It is your home, after all.’

‘Yeah,’ Dean said as he began moving towards the table, too lazy to go and get clothes when there was no apparent need to. He sat at his place, where Cas had put one of the two plates of food, and looked at the other man. ‘You cooked me breakfast?’

‘It was the least I could do after you took me in yesterday,’ replied the other man as he took a mouthful of food.

‘Coffee?’ Dean asked hopefully.

‘Just brewing some now.’

‘Awesome,’ replied the Winchester, eyes lighting up in childlike joy. He looked down at his plate and picked up his knife and fork, digging in to the scrambled eggs and bacon that had been prepared for him.

‘This is the best scrambled eggs and bacon I’ve ever tasted,’ he said with his mouth half full. He realised he was being impolite, and chewed quickly before swallowing down his mouthful and continuing. ‘Where’d you get all the stuff to make this?’

‘I found it in your cupboards,’ explained Castiel. ‘I hope you do not mind my invasion of your privacy.’

‘It’s fine, there was nothing in them anyway,’ Dean said, waving it off with a hand that still contained his knife.

‘A chef learns to be resourceful.’

‘You’re a chef?’

‘Was,’ corrected Castiel. ‘I _was_ a chef. I lost my job for reasons that weren’t disclosed to me. I didn’t have anywhere to go after that; there were no job applications I was qualified for, and I lost contact with my family many years ago, so they couldn’t help. And that’s how I ended up on the streets. A slightly abridged version, I admit.’

Dean listened to his companion’s story with rapt attention, food temporarily forgotten. ‘That sucks. And you had no one to turn to for help?’

‘One of my friends let me stay with him for a while, but decided a month later it wasn’t working out, so I left.’

‘Well you can stay here as long as you need to,’ Dean said resolutely, mind made up on the matter.

‘Thank you, but I don’t wish to intrude-’

‘You’re not intruding,’ Dean insisted, turning back to his food. ‘I could use the company,’ he smiled.

Castiel squinted at him, and it felt as though he were being X-rayed by the intense glare of the other man’s eyes. ‘If you are okay with it.’

‘I just said I am, didn’t I?’ He finished up the last of his meal and went to the sink, where he left his dirty dishes. Then he grabbed a mug from one of the drawers and poured out some coffee for himself. ‘Want some?’

‘Maybe later,’ Cas replied.

Dean took a sip and his shoulders relaxed. ‘I’m going to go get ready for work,’ he said.

‘What shall I do?’

‘You can do whatever you want. Make sure you stay safe though.’

‘Can I listen to your records?’

‘Sure thing,’ Dean smiled, before he made his way through to his room, taking the coffee with him.

As he got ready, he thought about the other man in his house and the visible change that had occurred in the night. He seemed more trusting of Dean, and he also looked better than he had done when Dean had first met him. He smiled at the thought; he really loved helping people.

When he got out to leave, having made sure he had everything, Castiel was sat on a chair he had pulled up by the shelf where Dean’s record player was, and was flicking through a selection of albums he held in his hand. Dean walked up behind him and watched him try and decide which one to listen to.

‘I suggest that one,’ he quipped in, pointing at _Jailhouse Rock_ , one of his many Elvis records.

‘Thank you,’ Castiel replied, setting it aside so he could neatly replace the other ones.

‘No problem, Cas,’ Dean said. ‘Have fun. I’ll see you later.’

‘Bye,’ came the distracted reply.

Dean chuckled and went to the door, leaving it unlocked behind him. He got in his impala and drove to work, singing along to ACDC while he drove.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean watched as the wall clock opposite him ticked slowly, waiting for the moment it struck five so he could get back home for the weekend. He didn’t mind working in an office all day, but it wasn’t what he had really wanted to do. He’d love to be a mechanic, had even been offered a job by his dad’s old friend Bobby Singer, but his dad hadn’t been keen on it at all.

20 seconds left. 19. 18. He wondered what Castiel had done with himself that day, and if he had found something to eat.

10\. 9. 8. 7. He made a mental note to stop by the grocery store to get some food before he went home.

5\. 4. 3. 2. 1.

Dean got up from his chair and grabbed his things from his desk, stuffing them into his briefcase quickly.

‘See you guys,’ he said to his co-workers, who had started to clear away for the day too. A few of them waved him goodbye as he strolled out of the room to the elevator down the corridor. He’d have taken the stairs, but he didn’t feel like it; he wanted to get home quickly.

He walked out of the building, waving goodbye to the secretary at the desk who waved back. She was good looking enough, but Dean only gave her a friendly smile.

He headed over to his impala and got inside. His briefcase was placed on the passenger seat and the keys turned in the ignition. The AC/DC CD from that morning blared out, and he turned down the volume a little before driving home, stopping at the grocery store on the way.

* * *

When he got home, Dean wasn’t too concerned about the unlocked door, and walked into his house.

‘Hey,’ he called out, ‘I’m home.’

He took off his shoes and walked into the living room, where Castiel was sat on the couch in his washed clothes from the day before.

‘I see you figured out how to use the washing machine,’ Dean commented.

Castiel nodded. ‘It was difficult at first, but I eventually managed to get it to comply.’

Dean held up his bag of food from the convenience store he had dropped into on the way back. ‘I got some food. And I also got you a washcloth for your face, and a toothbrush so you don’t have to use your finger. It’s even your favourite colour – green.’

‘Thank you, but they shall not be necessary.’

‘Why? You planning on skipping out on me?’

‘I’ve long outstayed my welcome already, and-’

‘You’ve only been here a day,’ Dean pointed out. ‘Castiel, listen. This is my home, and I invited you here. Not because I see you as a charity case, because I don’t. But you needed help, so I gave it to you. I honestly don’t mind having you here, even though we only just met. I’m not saying you have to stay here, but I’m not saying you have to go either.’

Castiel stood looking conflicted for a long while before he shook his head. ‘I’ll leave.’

Dean nodded. ‘Okay.’

‘Thank you. For everything.’

‘Welcome.’

Dean watched as Castiel got up from the sofa, avoiding eye contact with him. Castiel walked past him and headed out of the door.

He gave Castiel a two minute head start, counting down on his watch patiently. Then he walked out, got back into his impala and drove left, in the direction he had seen the homeless man head in.

Dean drove slowly with his window rolled down so that he wouldn’t accidentally go past the person he was looking for. Luckily, it wasn’t a busy afternoon in his neighbourhood, and there was barely any traffic other than the occasional car going in the other direction.

Eventually, he spotted a glimpse of beige trench coat and sped up a little to catch up.

‘Hey,’ he called out.

Castiel turned around to see him and frowned. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Driving.’

‘I see that. Why?’

‘There’s this person I know,’ Dean began, ‘he’s a bit stubborn and in need of some help, so I’m going to try and help him, if he’s gracious enough to let me.’

Castiel barked a laugh. ‘You’re very persistent, aren’t you?’

‘Only with the people that matter.’

Castiel stopped and turned to look at the car. ‘You think I matter?’

‘Everyone matters, Castiel,’ Dean said. ‘Every single human being. Each one of them’s important in some way.’ _Except me_ , he added mentally. ‘Come on, please?’

Castiel looked around. ‘But-’

‘But nothing,’ Dean said, interrupting the other man. ‘Where would you go anyway? You were kicked out of the shelter, and there’s clearly no home for you anywhere else.’

‘I’d have found something,’ Cas insisted quietly.

A loud rumbling surrounded them and clouds filled the sky, blocking the sun’s weak rays.

‘Come on, before it rains and you get drenched again,’ Dean said as they both looked up at the sky.

Castiel sighed petulantly and took a turn off the sidewalk, reaching the impala and pulling the door open. He got inside and buckled his seatbelt before sitting in his seat with a large frown and his arms crossed like a reluctant child.

‘Bastard,’ he whispered. ‘I bet you planned the damn weather.’

‘I’m not quite that good,’ Dean said as he manoeuvred a turn and drove back to his own house.

‘You never intended for me to leave, did you?’

‘Nope.’

‘And you swear you’re not a serial killer?’

‘I promise you,’ Dean insisted. ‘I’m just trying to be nice. I told you before. Helping people makes me feel good about myself.’

Castiel studied his driver for a long while.

Dean turned to look at him. ‘What?’

‘You’re a strange man, Dean Winchester.’

‘Right. You’re not so normal yourself, _Castiel_.’

‘Are you mocking my name?’ Cas asked in mock defence. ‘That’s appalling. I think you should stop the car and leave me here. I don’t like people who mock names.’ There was a slight tone in the man’s voice that helped Dean realise it was a joke, but it was obvious he didn’t make many. ‘So are you taking me back to yours?’

‘If you don’t mind,’ Dean said. ‘You can use my clothes again, if you want. And seeing as it’s Saturday tomorrow, we can go into town, find you some of your own clothes and maybe go job hunting for you.’

Castiel began to protest, but Dean stopped him short. ‘You can pay me back when you’re more financially stable and able to support yourself, but for now, let me help you.’

Castiel looked down at the floor of the impala. ‘If you insist. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

The rest of the car journey passed in silence until they pulled up outside Dean’s home.


	5. Chapter 5

‘I got some proper food for us,’ Dean said as he walked behind Castiel to the front door. ‘And then I mentioned your toothbrush and the washcloth.’

Castiel nodded as he entered the house. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

‘No problem. Just don’t go walking out on me again like that.’

‘I won't.’

‘Good. Looks like we got in just in time,’ Dean said as the sound of rain tapping the windows filled the house. He looked around; nothing seemed to have been messed with or adjusted. ‘So what did you do today?’

‘I listened to some records, cleaned my clothes, and watched some cartoons,’ Castiel told him as he shook off his trench coat and walked over to stand beside Dean at the table. He pointed at the grocery bag. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Not at all,’ Dean offered. ‘What was your favourite record?’

Castiel made a distracted noise as he looked through the food items that had been bought. ‘There were lots of good ones, but I suppose if I had to pick a favourite, it would be _Led Zeppelin II_.’

‘Awesome. That one’s definitely their best one.’ He looked at the bag on the table. ‘I’m not much in the mood for cooking, and I think you should take a break, seeing as you made me dinner _and_ breakfast. Let’s get a takeaway.’

Castiel looked from the bag to Dean. ‘I’d be happy to make dinner again,’ he said. ‘I used some of your things for lunch, but not a substantial amount, I think.’

‘Exactly, see?’ Dean said. ‘You’ve been cooking so much, you should take a break. I know you like it and all, but you really should take a break.’

‘If you insist,’ Castiel sighed, but Dean could see the smallest hint of a smile.

‘That’s the spirit,’ he grinned as he grabbed the bag and walked it over to the kitchen, where he started emptying the items in to their allotted cupboards.

When he was done, he turned to look at his guest. ‘What do you feel like eating? Pizza, Indian food, oriental… the possibilities are endless.’

‘Pizza sounds nice,’ Castiel said as he looked at his host.

Dean grinned, and Cas couldn’t help but smile back as he watched the other man put away the menus for all the other takeaways and hand the pizza one over to Cas before grabbing his mobile from his pocket.

‘Hey there,’ he said confidently as he called the pizzeria. ‘I’d like one Pepperoni Feast pizza, and—’

‘—a Hawaiian,’ Cas offered.

‘A Hawaiian please,’ Dean finished. ‘Yeah, that’ll be all. Great Thanks.’ He hung up the phone and turned to Cas. ‘Dinner’ll be here soon. What shall we do this fine evening?’

‘I don’t mind,’ Cas shrugged complacently. ‘Anything you’d like.’

‘Friday means no work tomorrow, so I think I can afford to stay up late for a movie night, if you’re up for it.’

Cas nodded. ‘What movies shall we watch?’

Dean looked at him intently. ‘Ever watched Star Wars?’

Castiel shook his head.

‘Dude, we’re watching Star Wars,’ Dean insisted as he grabbed his companion by the arm and gently lead him to the couch. He seated Cas down and went to put Episode 4 in, because if they were going to do this, they were going to do it right. And the right way was not watching the crappy prequels before the original trilogy.

Their pizza arrived and Dean paid the pizza delivery girl and brought the boxes to the small table in front of the couch. ‘Want something to drink? I have Coke, or beer or just water if you want.’

‘Coke, please,’ Cas said.

‘Sure thing; coming right up,’ Dean grinned as he went to his fridge and pulled out two cans of Coke. He put them down on the table, noting again that Cas hadn’t started eating without him.

They flipped open the pizza boxes and ate their food as they watched the movie, Dean sometimes pausing to explain a concept to the other man that he hadn’t quite understood. Their half-eaten meal lay to the side, completely forgotten as they became engrossed in the film.

After the first film was done, Cas immediately turned to Dean. ‘We must watch the next one.’

Dean laughed. ‘They’re good, aren’t they?’ He looked at the cold pizzas in their boxes on the table. ‘I’ll put these in the fridge and we can have them for breakfast tomorrow.’

‘Is that completely sanitary?’

‘You tell me,’ Dean said as he got up and grabbed the boxes, ‘you’re the cook.’

Cas made a huffing noise; laughter. ‘Waste not, want not.’

‘Exactly.’

When Dean got back to the couch, Episode 5 was already waiting, the play menu up on the screen. ‘Someone’s eager,’ he grinned.

Cas smiled. ‘What can I say, you’ve got me hooked.’

Dean held the remote out to his companion. ‘Would you do the honours?’

Cas took the remote. ‘I would love to.’ He pressed the play button, and the words ‘A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…’ showed on the screen. Cas placed the remote down onto the table and Dean noticed that he was leaning forward, moving closer to the screen so he wouldn’t miss anything.

Dean found himself watching his companion more than the actual film, and the reactions he had to what was happening onscreen. He thought nothing of it, and continued half paying attention to the feature.

Soon, his eyelids started to droop insistently and he found it hard to focus on things. He didn’t even notice it when he fell asleep. He dreamed of stars and flying spaceships, with his new guest as his first in command, rebels against a worthy cause. Maybe he was too old for those sorts of dreams, a part of his subconscious wondered, but the elation that came with being free overwhelmed any such thoughts.


End file.
